“And I hope we get some good gun-shots,” put in Tom. “We’re going on a hunting trip, please remember.” The time of preparation passed quickly, and a few days later, and shortly after Christmas, the boys found themselves in the Grand Central Station, New York, ready to take the train for camp. They piled their belongings about them in the parlor car, and then proceeded to talk of the delights ahead of them, delights in which their fellow passengers shared, for they listened with evident pleasure to the conversation of our friends. CHAPTER VI DISQUIETING NEWS Three men sat in the back room of the road-house, talking in whispers, a much-stained table forming the nucleus of the group. Two of the men were of evil faces, one not so much, perhaps, as the other, while the third man’s countenance showed some little refinement, though it was overlaid with grossness, and the light in the eyes was baleful. The men were the same three who foregathered as Tom Fairfield and his chums left the scene of the snowball accident, and it was the same day as that occurrence. It must not be supposed that the men had been there during all the time I have taken to describe the holiday scenes at Elmwood Hall. But I left the three men there, plotting, and now it is time to return to them, since Tom and his chums are well on their way to the winter camps in the Adirondacks. “Well, what do you think of that plan?” asked Professor Skeel, for he was one of the three men in the back room. “It sounds all right,” half-growled, rather than spoke, the man called Murker. “If it can be done,” added the other--Whalen. “Why can’t it be done?” demanded the former instructor. “You did your part, didn’t you? You found out where they were going, and all that?” “Oh, yes, I attended to that,” was the answer. “But I don’t want to get into trouble over this thing, and it sounds to me like trouble. It’s a serious business to take----” “Never mind. You needn’t go into details,” said Professor Skeel, quickly, stopping his henchman with a warning look, as he glanced toward the door through which the landlord had made his egress. “But I don’t want to be arrested on a charge of----” the other insisted. “There’ll be no danger at all!” broke in the rascally teacher. “I’ll do the actual work myself. I’ll take all the blame. All I want is your help. I had to have someone get the information for me, and you did that very well, Whalen. No one else could have done it.” “Yes, I guess I pumped him dry enough,” was the chuckling comment. “It’s a pity you had to go and get yourself discharged, though,” went on Mr. Skeel. “You would be much more useful to me at Elmwood Hall than out of it. But it can’t be helped, I suppose.” “I didn’t go and _get_ myself discharged!” whined he who was called Whalen. “It was that whelp, Tom Fairfield, who was to blame.” The man did not seem to count his own disgraceful conduct at all.